


Time (to start loving you)

by sammyspreadyourwings



Series: Queen Prompts [18]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, First Meetings, Fluff, Humor, Love at First Sight, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmate-Identifying Timers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-28 00:12:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18200876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammyspreadyourwings/pseuds/sammyspreadyourwings
Summary: Roger has a countdown clock to meet his soulmate, somehow he's still not prepared.





	Time (to start loving you)

**Author's Note:**

> Another prompt fill. And not in any way related to my other soulmate AU.

Roger has always hated his soulmark. Not because he hates the idea of soulmates, most are perfectly happy couples or legendary best friends. Mostly because it takes the spontaneity out of things. It’s a small black clock ticking away on his wrist. Counting down the literal years until he meets his soulmate

Personally, he’d rather be anywhere else today, preferably at home in his flat with Freddie nagging at him for his lack of romantic sensibilities. At least he knows there’s no pre-determined life partner there. The only reason he’s not there is because of this test that is worth an ungodly percentage of his final grade.

Between that and the mocking fifteen minutes on his clock, he’s about ready to cry with the surging of anxiety in his stomach. Maybe he should have taken Freddie up on that offer to fake like his great-aunt’s been in a car accident. When his clock reaches nine minutes, he feels like he’s about to vomit. The six questions he has left on the test fly out of his mind, and he all but slams the paper on the professor's table before bolting.

Roger takes the east staircase because no one ever uses them, and no time is added to his clock.

He’s not ready for this. He might be Roger Taylor, drummer extraordinaire ( _you’re not even in a band, dear),_ but all his soulmate will see is greasy blond hair and clothes sporting two-day old wrinkles. Not exactly the stuff epic romances are made from. Maybe it’ll be a platonic bond, but every fiber in his being is telling him the opposite.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Roger chants with each step he takes.

“Fuck this shit.” He says when he turns on the landing.

Hell, even his freak-outs can’t be off time.

Roger goes to turn on the next landing but his foot hits a discarded piece of paper and it slips from under him. For a second, he’s weightless and then the ground is racing towards him. He has enough presence of thought to try and angle it so that his should absorbs the blow, he needs his hands and wrists more. Except he hits something softer than the floor.

The first thing he realizes is that he’s only halfway down the steps.

The second thing he realizes is that his wrist timer has faded from his skin.

The third thing he realizes is that someone caught him.

Presumably his soulmate.

“Fuck.”

He waits for a response and then he hears the warmest laugh and his heart melts. Curiosity gets the better of him and he glances up to see dark curls and a snaggle-toothed smile. Oh hell. Roger is gone the second he meets hazel eyes. They’re full of a glossy wonder and awe, and somehow Roger knows it all because of him.

“Wow.”

The man helps him regain his footing again, and now Roger can fully take in his life-partner. Even standing a step above him Roger barely reaches his height. He grins when the man can’t seem to form more words than what he’s spoken.

“I’m Roger Taylor and I’ve already fallen for you.”

Not his best work, but it makes the crooked smile grow wider, so Roger counts it as a win.

“I’m Brian May and I’ll gladly catch you again.”

It’s horribly cheesy. Freddie is going to lose his mind.

“So, you must’ve had something horrendously obvious as well.”

Brian raises an eyebrow, “not so much obvious, but uncommon.”

He tilts his head and barely holds in the snort when Brian tugs down his collar to reveal in messy handwriting (his own to be exact)  _fuck._

“What about you? Was yours horrendously obvious?”

“A countdown clock,” Roger shrugs.

The offending clock is gone, but in its place is a series of numbers, that after some thought Roger realizes is the date and time of their exact meeting. They’re raised but unless you knew to look for them, you couldn’t see them.

“Please tell me you play an instrument.”

Roger winces, it's such an odd thing to blurt out, but no matter what the universe says, there’s no way someone who has no connection to music can be one of his most important people.

“Guitar, I built it actually,” Brian smiles, “and I play in a band, or we would play if we had a drummer.”

The universe really handed him everything on a silver platter. It makes up for the years of knowing when exactly his soulmate was coming to him. Now, he doesn’t know what’s in store for him, but he knows one person who’s going to be by his side through it all.

“As it so happens, I am a drummer.”

Brian’s eyes are practically sparkling, “are you any good?”

“Of course!” Roger’s smile turns cocky.

“We’re doing this backward I know, but I really want to play with you now, and then we can talk about everything?”

“Why don’t we see where the music takes us?”

Brian takes a step down and holds out his hand, “hopefully not tumbling down any more flights of steps.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always leave your thoughts and comments below or come talk to me on tumblr.


End file.
